


want you close and close ain’t close enough

by Lalalli



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Humor, academy au, literally stuck together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalli/pseuds/Lalalli
Summary: In retrospect, Fitz probably should have done more testing on the removal of the Bio-cuffs before testing on human subjects. Or, more specifically, testing on Simmons and himself.But now Fitz can’t get the bloody cuffs off of them, which means that Simmons is stuck with him until he figures it out.*OR Fitzsimmons are literally incapable of leaving each other’s side.





	want you close and close ain’t close enough

**Author's Note:**

> So who else died a little bit watching that season finale? What happened to never leaving each other’s sides, huh???? You sure abandoned that plan quickly. 
> 
> And because fanfiction exists to right all the wrongs of reality, now they literally cannot leave each other’s sides. You’re welcome.

In retrospect, Fitz probably should have done more testing on the _removal_ of the Bio-cuffs before testing on human subjects. Or, more specifically, testing on Simmons and himself.

“Well, you know what they say about hindsight.” Simmons doesn’t even look at him, choosing instead to swipe at the screen of her tablet with a level of aggression that would be impressive if it weren’t so terrifying. Fitz knows that Simmons has every right to be annoyed and snippy, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow that tone.

“Thanks, Simmons. Clearly, reminding me of overused aphorisms will help me solve this problem more quickly.”

The thing is, Fitz is fully aware that it’s his own hubris that got him in this situation. He knows that he’s not about to win anyone over with his stunning looks or winning personality, so he was relying on his best asset (his brain, obviously) to impress Simmons. She’s been one-upping him since their very first day at the Academy, and he just wanted to prove that he’s just as smart, just as capable as her.

He wasn’t trying to knock her down a peg or anything. Their fellow cadets might find her insufferable, but in Fitz’s opinion, Simmons has every right to be self-satisfied and immodest - she really is that smart. No, he was just trying to step up to her level - put them on equal footing.

He’s been working on the Bio-cuffs for the better part of a year, and working on getting the attention of Simmons for even longer. When he finally ran a series of successful trials on the cuffs, he was so excited with his breakthrough that he immediately went to Simmons, knowing that she would be excited for him even though all their previous interactions involved him staring blankly at her whenever she said a word to him.

And he was right. Even though demonstrating the efficacy of the Bio-cuffs meant that they were both overcome with nausea the moment they were more than five feet apart, Jemma immediately grinned and exclaimed, with a level of cheer usually reserved for Christmas morning, “I think I’m going to puke!”

Except that Fitz can’t get the bloody cuffs off of them, which means that Simmons is stuck with him until he figures it out.

On the bright side, he definitely got her attention.

*

Simmons is adamant that she is not going to miss any of her classes just because they’re stuck together, which is more than fine with Fitz. They have most of the same classes anyways, and the classes that they don’t share are at different times, which just means that he and Simmons are sitting in on classes outside of their specialization. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Except for when Simmons keeps on raising her hand in his holographic engineering class and answering everything right. Figures that she’d also be at the top of the classes that she’s not even enrolled in.

Likewise, studying isn’t too much of an issue. They share a table at the library, and if one of them needs a book, they both get up to search through the stack. In the lab, their attention is primarily focused on a solution to their predicament, Simmons putting off her own project to familiarize herself with the Bio-cuffs, with Fitz’s promise that he’ll assist her with her research on dendrotoxins once the cuffs are off to make it up to her.

Fitz doesn’t think it’s too bad at first. It’s inconvenient, but not particularly traumatizing. It’s mostly awkward when one of them needs to use the bathroom. Luckily, each building on campus has at least one single stall restroom in addition to the more conveniently located multi-stall restrooms. It’s a bit of a pain to have to go out of their way to use it, but it’s better than hanging out in the women’s restroom while other girls think he’s a pervert.

The co-sleeping situation though? That’s a completely different story.

“So how should we do that this?” Simmons asks as she eyes his dorm-standard twin-sized bed. She looks more inquisitive than distrustful, like she’s trying to figure out a complex math problem.

Fitz shrugs. “I can sleep on the floor. That’s within five feet, right?

Simmons ignores him. “I think this will be easier if we just acknowledge that we’re going to essentially be cuddling tonight.”

Fitz chokes on nothing. “Are we?”

Simmons looks unimpressed. “It’s a small bed, Fitz.” She narrows her eyes at the bed, calculating. “I think spooning would be the most efficient use of space.”

Fitz swallows. “Okay. Spooning. Right.” He gestures towards the bed. “Ladies first.”

For all her earlier bravado, Simmons’s movements are hesitant and her shoulders tense as she climbs onto the squeaky mattress and slips under the covers. Fitz climbs in after her, rolling onto his side to face the back of Simmons’s head.

He shifts a bit, unsure of what to do with his arms,first trying to rest them on his side, then letting it fall between his front and her back then folding them under his head, all while trying to keep his hips away from Simmons’s backside.

After about ten minutes of this, Simmons huffs impatiently. “Turn around.”

“What?”

Simmons rolls over to face him. “Flip over. I’m going to be the big spoon.” She glares at him, daring him to disagree with her.

Fitz briefly considers arguing with her, but ultimately defers to what would apparently help her feel more comfortable. Simmons snuggles her body into his and slings an arm over his waist. “There. Now you don’t have to worry about your morning wood.”

“I’ll just find something else to worry about,” Fitz warns.

“Great. Keep it to yourself until tomorrow.”

*

Fixing the problem takes a bit longer than expected.

Fitz thought that with the two of them focusing all their time and effort on fixing the Bio-cuffs, it would take two days, tops. But then four days pass, and they have to admit that they can’t really get by with washing themselves off with baby wipes anymore. They are in desperate need of a shower.

“Wait, you don’t have stalls?” A few seconds ago, Simmons had been in a rush, pointing out that the longer they take, the more likely they are to get walked in on. Now, however, she’s rooted to the spot, staring in horror at the communal showers in the bathroom on Fitz’s hall.

Fitz frowns. “Do you?”

Simmons hugs her towel more tightly to her chest. “Of course we do! It’s a residence bathroom, not an athletic locker room!”

“Well, what do you want to do? Go over to your dorm?” Fitz asks, hoping that she’ll say no if only because it’s three in the morning and it had taken a while for them to come to an agreement in the first place. They figured that if they wanted to avoid other students, the best time to shower would be in the middle of the night, so Jemma dragged him out of bed only a couple hours after he had fallen asleep, much to his chagrin.

Simmons bites her bottom lip. “It’s all the way across campus.”

“We can take turns,” Fitz suggests.

Simmons squares her shoulders back and nods, as though she’s just made up her mind. “Let's just get it over with. The longer we’re in here, the more likely it is we’ll get caught,” she repeats, like it’s a mantra she’s memorized. She hangs up her towel and peels off her shirt.

Fitz squeezes his eyes shut. “Um.”

“It’ll be fine,” Simmons says, her voice full of false bravado. “We’ll just face away from each other.”

“Or I can wait out here til you’re done,” Fitz offers. He can hear the hiss of water sputtering from one of the shower heads.

“Or we can get this over with so we can go back to sleep.”

Fitz sighs. He really wants to go back to sleep. Before his brain can catch up to what he’s doing, he’s pulling off his clothes and standing under the shower next to Simmons.

He’s very determinedly not looking at her, but despite the fact that he can’t see her, just the knowledge that she’s right there, naked, that he’d see _all_ of her if he turned around, is enough to get him hard. He’s never showered faster in his life.

Even though Simmons started before him, Fitz still finishes before her, ducking out from under the water and toweling off in record time. “C’mon, hurry up,” Fitz whispers, his back turned to Simmons. “I want to go back to bed.”

Her shower turns off a moment later. “Trust me, I’m going as fast as I can,” she grumbles. “I don’t want to be here any more than you do.” He hears the rustling of clothes, and then, “Are you decent?”

Fitz is most certainly having a lot of indecent thoughts, but he manages to shove them down long enough to croak, “Yeah, I’m good to go.”

And yeah, maybe it’s awkward and maybe their wet hair gets his pillow cases wet, but Fitz can’t help but think it’s kind of nice to hold a just-showered Jemma in his arms, when she smells clean, like mint and soap. And maybe Fitz is imagining the way Simmons nuzzles his neck as they fall asleep, but he thinks Simmons might like it too.

*

To say that they get close would be an understatement. Spending literally every moment within five feet of another person will tend to do that. Fitz learns Simmons’ every habit, every mood, every nuance of every facial expression.

He learns that she writes down her lecture notes by hand before typing them the next day because she remembers them better that way. He learns that she color-codes everything. (“B is for blue is for biological, and is also for books and bakeries and bathroom breaks.”) He learns that she has little patience for group projects, shouts at her computer when playing trivia games on Sporcle, squeezes her toothpaste from the middle of the tube like some sort of barbarian, and eats Lucky Charms for dessert but not for breakfast.

And he knows Simmons is learning just as much about him. She’s started carrying around granola bars and fruit snacks because she knows he gets peckish throughout the day. She gives him space (well, as much space as she can, at least) when he’s feeling grumpy after basically any sort of social interaction. She gives him her bacon at breakfast, even as she warns of high cholesterol, because she knows he loves it so much.

They start to have entire conversations without saying a word to each other, and once that starts to happen, it’s easy to just share every thought that occurs to them, no matter how trivial. They’re practically sharing a brain anyways - why should they bother with filters?

So when Jemma tears off her headphones and exhales loudly, Fitz sighs, already knowing what’s coming. He puts down his book and looks at her expectantly.

“Okay, here’s the thing. I don’t understand why English dubs on foreign animation is so _bad_. Like, the show is already made - all they need to do is find decent voice actors to record over it. But instead, they spend their efforts rearranging the episode order for some reason and adding stupid lame catchphrases like ‘de-evilise’? It’s so dumb!”

Fitz just looks at her. Jemma’s scowl deepens. “I’m just saying!” She says defensively. “Miraculous is WAY better in the original French. But I can only find season 1 with subtitles, which means I have to watch Season 2 in English.”

Fitz opens his mouth to speak.

“Or I can learn French!” Jemma exclaims excitedly. “Great idea, Fitz!” She taps at her screen, already downloading Duolingo.

“Glad we had this talk,” Fitz says, dry.

Fitz hasn’t had a lot of friends before, but from what he’s observed, the evolution of most friendships occurs gradually. Fitz has often thought that making friends is kind of like removing brick walls. Every time he learns something new about someone, it’s like removing a brick, like gaining the ability to see them more fully. He’s used to trading facts about himself slowly, cautiously, disassembling the wall between them piece by piece.

Being stuck to Jemma is like taking a wrecking ball to the wall between them. It’s exhilarating, but terrifying. He’s never formed a bond with someone so quickly.

And amazingly, impossibly, being stuck to Jemma becomes his new normal. Eating every meal side by side becomes normal. Waking up with her face buried in his back, between his shoulder blades, becomes normal. Staying up late every night because they can’t stop talking to each other becomes normal. Fitz can’t remember how he was ever so worried about talking to her when being with her is as easy as breathing. Was there ever a time when they weren’t just extensions of each other?

So of course, just when they find their equilibrium, they’re torn apart.

Well, not _torn_. But they do figure out how to remove the Bio-cuffs.

Fitz rubs his now bare wrist. “Finally,” he sighs.

Jemma bumps her wrist against his. “What a relief.” She leans against the lab bench. “Shall we celebrate?”

“Boiler Room?” Fitz suggests.

“Boiler Room,” Jemma agrees.

They don’t get drunk, but Fitz does get a pleasant buzz that immediately dies when Sally Weber suggests she and Jemma walk back to their dorm together.

Fitz leaves with them, walking with them across campus until it’s time for them to go their separate ways.

Jemma rocks on her heels. “I guess this is it.”

Fitz stuffs his hands in his pocket. “Yeah.” He looks down at the ground. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too, Fitz.” She takes a reluctant step back. “Talk to you later?”

Sally huffs impatiently from behind Jemma. “I would think so, seeing as we all have class together tomorrow.” It’s too dark to know for sure, but Fitz is pretty sure he sees her roll her eyes.

They only say goodbye to each other four more times before parting ways. It occurs to Fitz, as he arrives at his dorm, that this is the first night in almost two months that he’s sleeping by himself.

He didn’t think it was possible for a cramped twin bed to feel so empty.

*

Fitz and Jemma fall into their new normal. They still sit next to each other in the classes they share, occasionally writing notes to each other in the margins of their notebooks, but they don’t follow each other to the classes they don’t share. They sit next to each other in the cafeteria and swipe food from each other’s plates, but they have to make plans to meet each other there instead of arriving and leaving together. They still stay up way too late talking to each other, but it’s usually over the phone while lying on their respective beds.

And even though Fitz still sees Jemma every day, spends most of his hours with her, he still misses her. It feels like he sees her a lot less, so it surprises him when people start to assume that they’re stuck together again.

Fitz isn’t exactly sure what he did to deserve the weird look Sally sends his way when she sees him leaning against the wall outside the women’s restroom.

“Lurk much?” Sally asks, more amused than suspicious.

Fitz shrugs. “Just waiting for Simmons.”

Sally frowns. “Did you get stuck together again?”

Fitz furrows his brow, confused. “No. Why?”

“So you’re just, like, bathroom buddies?” Sally asks skeptically.

Fitz tried and fails to not sound defensive. “We’re on our way to the lab. It’s not a big deal.”

“You mean the lab that’s two doors down?”

Fitz scowls. “Your point?”

Sally smiles brightly, the picture of innocence. “Nothing! Carry on.”

It’s not weird. It’s not. Friends wait for friends all the time. And if someone is his favorite person in the world, why shouldn’t he spend all his time with her?

And he knows Jemma feels the same. Why else would she text him screenshots of YouTube comments that make her angry at two in the morning (which he reads right away but doesn’t respond to until six with “This is why I keep telling you to not read YouTube comments”)? Why else would she come to his dorm room at the crack of dawn on Sunday mornings bearing muffins and coffee so they can study together? Why else would she drag him to the Boiler Room on Friday nights (“You can't just spend the whole weekend playing video games in your pajamas, Fitz!”) and then leave after an hour to follow him back to his room to watch him play video games in his pajamas?

And really, an hour is all they need to get sloppy-drunk and carelessly affectionate with each other. Jemma hangs off his arm the entire walk back to his dorm, then falls asleep with her head in his lap while he plays video games. If he’s being honest, Fitz probably enjoys her physical proximity too much, which is why he keeps on playing until he can’t keep his head up anymore.

When he finally admits to himself that he needs to move, he gently tucks a loose lock of Jemma’s hair behind her ear. “Hey, Jem,” he whispers. “We gotta move from the floor.”

She stirs momentarily, then shifts her weight a bit before falling back asleep.

Fitz shakes her shoulder. “Jemma.”

Jemma’s eyes flutter open, and she looks a bit dazed until her eyes finally focus on Fitz and she smiles. “Hey.”

“It’s late,” Fitz tells her.

Jemma yawns as she sits up. Fitz misses her weight on his legs basically immediately. “I should get going, then.”

Fitz frowns. “Oh. I’ll walk you back then.”

Jemma snorts. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”

“So do you,” Fitz argues. “I’m not going to let you walk back by yourself this late.” He hesitates. “You could stay,” he offers.

Jemma blinks. “Oh. Here? With...here?”

Fitz shrugs. “Just like old times, yeah?”

Jemma ducks her head and smiles. “Yeah. Just like that.”

*

It’s been a month since the last time Jemma was in his bed, but after one night, Fitz is already too used to having her here. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to go back to sleeping apart from her.

Fitz suspects Jemma feels the same because when he wakes up the next morning, she’s already awake, lying on her side and watching him. He rolls onto his side as well to face her, taking in her hair, wild and messy, fanned out over the pillows, the little bits of dirt crusted into the corners of her eyes, the way her eyebrows draw together and her teeth sink into her bottom lip. “You okay?” Fitz asks, his voice raspy from sleep.

“I think there are some residual side effects to the Bio-cuffs.” The words tumble out of her quickly, like she’s been holding them back and the dam has finally burst.

Fitz blinks. He wasn’t expecting that. “What do you mean? Do you feel sick?”

Jemma clenches and unclenches her hands, adjusting her grip on the covers. “It’s not exactly like before. It’s just...I feel, like, this dull ache when we’re apart.”

Fitz furrows his brow. “Where does it hurt?”

“In my chest.”

Fitz places a comforting hand on her arm. “Anything else?”

Jemma sighs and rolls onto her back, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I guess my heart rate is elevated when I’m near you, but it’s not necessarily uncomfortable, just strange.” She lets her head fall to the side, meeting his eyes again. “It’s like...I feel better when I’m near you. I don’t like it when we’re apart.” She pauses, before asking uncertainly, “Have you noticed anything similar?”

“No,” Fitz responds automatically, before stopping to really think about it. “Well, yes but -”

“Fitz! You should have said something sooner!” Jemma scolds, sitting up. She flings the covers off her lap. “We need to go to the lab immediately!”

Fitz reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her forearm without much input from his brain. “Jemma, I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t think it had anything to do with the Bio-cuffs.”

Jemma turns to face him, her face scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean? What else could it be?”

Fitz sits up, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “I just figured that it was because I like you.”

“You like me,” Jemma repeats slowly.

Fitz rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Jemma looks down at her hands. “I like you too, Fitz. Of course I do.” She coughs a bit, clearing her throat, and looks back up at Fitz. “But lots of people manage to have friends without this level of codependence.”

Fitz supposes he should be grateful, really, that she’s letting him down so easy. And he apparently hasn’t mucked it up enough that she’s unwilling to be friends with him. She’s still here. She still likes him. She still wants him around.

Still though, Fitz can’t help but feel a tiny bit relieved when Jemma leaves for the lab. He loves being around her, but he doesn’t mind some time alone to lick his wounds.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get even an hour alone before Jemma’s back, storming into his room without knocking.

“Did you mean like me or like me like me?” Jemma demands.

Fitz looks up at Jemma from his seat at his desk, furrowing his brow as he struggles to catch up. “Huh?”

“Earlier. When you said you like me,” Jemma presses.

Fitz stands. “What about it?”

“You let me think that you meant it platonically, but that’s not true, is it?” She doesn’t look upset about it; just confused. “Why didn’t you tell me that you meant it romantically?”

Fitz wets his lips. “I thought it was obvious.”

Jemma narrows her eyes at him. “Fitz?”

He watches nervously as Jemma steps into his space. “Yes?”

Jemma’s gaze drops to his lips, and Fitz feels his heart quicken. “Be more obvious.”

That’s all the invitation Fitz needs to duck down and kiss her, cradling her face in his hands, letting his thumbs graze over her jawline. It’s soft and sweet and everything Fitz didn’t let himself think about having.

He’s felt the thrill of getting to know Jemma, of being known by Jemma, but it’s still unexpected, the way he feels as though his soul is being laid bare. He’s been vulnerable with her before, but he’s never made it so clear that his heart is hers for the taking.

Fitz pulls away slowly, not wanting to push too far all at once. Apparently, Jemma has no such qualms because she immediately closes the distance between them again, this time kissing him more insistently. He moves his hands to her hips, gripping her tightly as she presses herself even closer to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and opening her mouth under his.

She pushes him back a little, and Fitz takes the hint, letting her maneuver them to his bed. Once his knees hit the bed, he falls back, and Jemma climbs on top of him, letting her face hover over his. “I almost tampered with the Bio-cuffs so we’d get stuck together again,” she confesses.

Fitz laughs, surprised. “You don’t need the Bio-cuffs for that. I always want you around.”

Jemma smiles, and it feels like being bathed in sunshine. “Good. I don’t like being apart from you.”

Fitz reaches for her hand and tangles their fingers together. “Good,” he echoes. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

 


End file.
